SuperHuman
by 221Bombastic
Summary: Parentlock and Clone Club crossover. Welcome to the trip, man. Sarah goes hunting for help in London. See how the Baker Street boys react when she knocks on Mrs. Hudson's door. Sherlock and John get swept up in the drama of Clone Club, but will these three parents want to risk it all with their kids on the line?
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

He'd been just a boy then.

December 13. It was a chilly day, and Hamish was shut up inside the flat. His father was out on a case, but Papa had stayed. Father got anxious after being inside for so long. He said the light snow was covering footprints of the murderer in the latest case, and before John could protest had run out the door. His papa had sighed, resting a hand on their son's shoulder.

"Just you and me now, Hamish." He shook his head slightly, they both knew how Sherlock was. John would have liked to rush out right alongside him, the thrill of the chase filling him as he and his husband flagged down a murderer. Oh how he would love it. But they couldn't leave Hamish alone, not when he had his father's curiosity and tendency to get bored. John didn't want a repeat of the fire two years ago. Mrs. Hudson had fallen asleep after an herbal soother, and Hamish had nearly burned down the building. From his perch at the window, Hamish nodded. His eyes fervently scanned the street below, hoping for a sign of Sherlock's return. His eyes flicked towards movement in the middle of the street. A car had pulled up to the curb, and a dark haired woman stepped out. She was dressed in dark blue and gray, her thick boots clunking as her feet hit the pavement. From behind her she lowered a small girl to the floor. The little girl had golden curls, and bright eyes. Her pink dress was rumpled, as were her leggings. She looked intelligent enough, as far as children went, Hamish thought. Once he finished cataloguing their appearances, he began to deduce. The girl was his age, seven. The mother was in her twenties or thirties, and judging by the way she glanced around, she'd been to London before. Hamish judged though, that she was originally from Brixton. They had just gotten off a long flight, the girl was tired...they'd left early in the morning, somewhere in North America. Toronto? Their clothes were wrinkled and their bags were sloppily packed, items brimming over the open tops. So they had left in a hurry. Why?

Hamish was distracted as the rumbling from the engine was cut and a tall, lanky man exited the driver seat. He loped over to the girls, twirling the keys around one finger. "Well," he asked in a disinterested, deep, yet slightly nasal voice. "Is this the old biddy's place?"

He couldn't hear the woman's response, the man was just habitually loud, but he read her lips. "Uh, yea..." she responded. "Looks like it, Fee." She patted her coat pocket, before turning to him. She was armed, then! Hamish smiled in excited me. What next!

John's brow furrowed. He had looked out the window at the people his son had been observing as well, and though he was not his husband, he was a soldier. John knew a weapon when he saw one. John placed a protective hand on his son's shoulder, a shiver running down his jumper-clothed spine. "C'mon, Hame. Let's go watch Doctor Who."

Hamish sighed, but relented. He took once last glance outside, meeting eyes with the small girl for a moment. Her gaze bore into his fearlessly, and her mouth twitched at the corners a tad, as though she wanted to smile at him but was wary. His eyes widened as he noticed something he had not before. There were cuts on her face, large scabs and bruises. One was bandaged by a white rectangle. It appeared to be a car accident but...he shook his head, breaking their contact, to clear his mind. No...no. Not possible...his deductions had told him that the impact of the car had been powerful. Too powerful, in fact, her trauma suggested that it had hit her hard enough to kill her. She shouldn't be standing there now, and yet...she was. His silence was scaring John, who dragged him to the couch, wishing Sherlock would come home.

Yes, he was just a boy then...but he still remembered the first time he'd met Kira.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Sarah marched up to the black door. 221B was embossed on the door in gold. Beneath them was a brass knocker, which Sarah grasped with a trembling hand. Mrs. S had directed her to this place, but she was still wary. She trusted no one, and this Emma Hudson seemed a bit shifty. Cosima had found that her husband was killed on trial, and it was rumored that this Hudson woman somehow fixed it. She held back Kira, who she'd been overprotective of after the accident, and the door swung open.

"Yes?" asked a frail old woman. She had chin length blonde-white hair and was wearing a purple dress suit and blouse. Her hands shook as she wrung them nervously and she peered up the stairs behind her. Sarah stared at her. Why would Mrs. S send her to this biddy? She had to be in her seventies! Sarah began to doubt her ability to help them.

"You Emma Hudson?" Sarah demanded, Felix coming up behind her to glare at the woman.

Mrs. Hudson answered her, her voice warbling slightly. "Ah, y-yes. Are you looking for Sherlock, love? Because usually you can just email him-" Sarah narrowed her eyes, cutting her off. "What?"

"Who the bloody hell is...Sherlock?" trilled Felix. Hm, Sherlock seemed like a rather sexy name.

"Sherlock Holmes? World's only consultant detective?" inquired Mrs. Hudson. Sarah became even more confused. "Oh..no then. Well, why don't you come in?" She held open the door and the three went inside.

John dashed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to straighten his jumper. He raised himself to his full height, puffing out his chest. He placed his hands on his hips and stared down the strangers. "Who are you and why are you in our home? And take that damn pistol out of your pocket before I shoot you with my Browning!"

Mrs. Hudson started at the mention of guns. Sarah pursed her lips. "Oi! Stay outta it! This isn't your business. I'm here for Hudson." Hamish was crouched at the top of the stairs, observing. The man was particularly interesting.

At that moment the door burst open and Sherlock himself waltzed in. He shrugged off his trench coat and scarf, brushing off small snowflakes. "What's this?" he asked in a deep baritone. Felix's mouth fell open and he practically began to drool. That VOICE. Those CHEEKBONES. Those wonderful ever-changing EYES. Good God, Felix was in love.

"Father?" a small voice piped up from the landing. "Why is the funny man staring at you like Papa does? His body language says he wants to have sex with you, same as Sally's when she sees Anderson." Hamish mumbled. Everyone stilled in shock, and Felix's mouth dropped open.

"You filthy little liar!" he cried in an offended tone. Sherlock was astounded, but none the less he had to be proud of his son. "He's correct though, your embarrassed eye twitch tells me everything." He smirked at the man. "So who are our friends, Mrs. Hudson?"

Flustered, his landlady stammered, "Uh...they haven't said, Sherlock."

The detective raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Sarah, prompting her to speak, and John shoved past them to Sherlock. He grabbed his arm possessively, glowering at Felix. "Where have you been?" he huffed. "No wait-don't tell me I'll deal with you later. Right now we have more pressing issues," He aimed a pointed stare at Sarah and Mrs. Hudson. "Like who you are and why one of you is lusting after my husband." John snapped.

Sarah giggled in spite of herself at his defensive nature, and the fact that he'd called her brother on his desires. "We're here to talk to your landlady, yea? Mrs. S sent us." Sherlock watched as the elderly woman's face paled and she eyed Sarah with recognition. "Sarah? Little Sarah Manning?" she cried.

The punk nodded. Mrs. Hudson broke into a grin. "Oh Lord! That means this is FEE!" She suddenly crushed Felix in a hug, jumping up and down with glee. "Felix! My, my just look at you!" She held him at arms length, looking him up and down. "You're so thin...and Sarah! You look beautiful, love. Who's this?" she added, bending down to cup the little girl's cheek.

"My daughter. Kira." Sarah said proudly, running a hand through Kira's hair. "We came here because Mrs. S said you could help. Things are...not safe any more in Toronto. People are after me and Kira and the cops started sniffing around," Mrs. Hudson nodded knowingly at this. "See, 'cause we found out that I wasn't an orphan. Foster kid yea, put into the system to protect me. That's why I was a kid in the black. Thought maybe we could start over here, for a while, and find out some more about my origins. Its imperative."

Mrs. Hudson started fusing over them. "Of course, of course anything for Siobhan. Although if its the police you're hiding from, you might have a problem. The boys here practically live at Scotland Yard, what with their cases and all for DI Lestrade." She seemed to remember the two were there and jumped up. "Oh! Where are my manners? Sherlock, John, this is Sarah Manning and her brother, Felix. They're the foster kids of a good friend of mine." she turned to the strangers. "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Consultant detective and ex-army doctor turned blogger." Hamish had crept silently down the stairs and seemed to materialize next to Kira, making everyone jump in the dimly lit hall. "And this is their son, Hamish Watson-Holmes."

Hamish fidgeted under their gaze. He locked eyes once again with Kira, who smirked at him. "What happened to you?" he asked.

John shook him. "Hamish! That is not a polite thing to ask!" His reprimand was interrupted by Kira's small voice.

"Car accident...it hit me while I was crossing the street." she admitted shyly.

Hamish scoffed, thought not unkindly. "Obvious. I mean, what happened that saved you. Judging by your injuries you shouldn't have lived, what with the speed of the car when it slammed into you. So tell me, Kira, why you're still alive." The room fell silent again, and Felix coughed loudly. Sherlock quirked his brow, intrigued by what he was reading off these strange people.

Kira pursed her lips, slipping into a grim facial expression. She turned to her mother with confused eyes. "Mummy, what does he mean?"

Sarah faltered. "Uh, monkey...he must know a lot about car crashes, yea? I'm sure he just means to say your very lucky." She scooped up the girl and took her into Mrs. Hudson's flat. Felix followed with a longing look at Holmes' arse, receiving a withering look from the good doctor. Their landlady fled in after them, and John shooed Hamish upstairs for bed. Sarah walked back out into the entryway, grabbing the collar of Sherlock's deep purple button down. "Oi! What'd your kid mean by that? Can't he hold his tongue? Right scared the shit outta Kira! Where do you get off thinking that's okay?" she thundered.

Blatantly ignoring her slanderous words against his offspring, Sherlock spoke in his low baritone. "Ms. Manning, what's your secret? What are you hiding? Oh, don't be like that." he said to her shocked face. "I'd assume even you would know about my deductive abilities. No? Hm, pity. Well, put simply I am able to read you and your family like open books so there's no use hiding things from me. Im curious to know and you're going to tell me because I'll find out eventually, Sarah, what is your secret? You're hiding something, in fact, you're trying to run away from it. Something...with science, is it? You're worried about someone too. Someone in your life is sick. Your sister, and you need answers to help her, the question is: who can give you to them? That's not the main reason you've returned to England though, there's something else besides your sister, and obviously, the safety of your daughter, something personal involving your past. What is it?"

"You're wrong." Sarah said, choosing her words carefully. Someone this clever obviously would be an asset to them, and Mrs. Hudson obviously trusted them. And the other man, he was a doctor. Perhaps the two of them together could run tests for Cosima. Delphine texted Sarah every hour it seemed about the amounts of blood being coughed up by Cos. She was sick, like the German and they were running out of time. Rachel and Leekie were after them, as well as Art and the police force, who still idiotically thought she had killed Beth and Katja. Okay, time to drop the bomb. "Cosima isn't my sister...she's my clone." She waited for him to stagger in disbelief, or slap her. She waited for him to turn pale in horror and deny it. At least tell her she was joking and slam the door in her face. But he didn't, surprisingly, Sherlock smirked at her.

"I knew they'd do it someday." he muttered, before winking and striding up stairs. "Good night, Sarah!" he called over his shoulder, shutting his door with a click. Sarah heave a sigh of relief, then grinned up his flat. Obviously this would be different, and these three boys were definitely members of Clone Club now.


End file.
